Dear God….I need patience
Dear God,
I’m tired. I beg you for patience, for mine is wearing thin. As You know, YEARS ago a group of congregants didn’t care for our pastor, and quietly “showed him the door.” The offer was accepted and we were able to peacefully continue our pot luck dinners, yard sales and declining membership. The next pastor was even less popular, and was also “shown the door.” This pastor, however, didn’t possess the tact, grace or political acumen to quietly accept the offer. Nope…not quietly.(praise be Your name). This pastor was blamed for the attendance going down…in spite of the fact that attendance denomination-wide went down then, and continued to go down after that pastor’s failure (Who’s the next to be blamed?). This pastor was blamed for financial pressures in the church, although our budget at it’s lowest would be viewed as a miracle of miracles for churches with many times the attendance. The pastor was blamed for neglecting the flock, because he thought it more important that Polly at the rest home know that WE cared enough to visit her, not just a stranger, an itinerant preacher. This pastor was blamed for not meeting the needs of the congregation…and then blamed for meeting those needs by starting another service. This pastor was blamed for not being civil, although incivility is rarely a one way street.
Lord, You know that my feelings toward that pastor were mixed at best. Lord, You also know that I believe this pastor had little to do with the the myriad of church problems for which he was (and apparently still is) blamed.
In the years since this pastor’s departure, and we still speak of “healing.” Lord, You know how difficult it is for me not to roll my eyes openly when some soul begins to speak of how our church is “healing”. “Healing from what?” I want to ask with words dripping sarcasm and contempt. A want to ask them “What specific maladies are we healing from? Did we actually heal anything? No!” Lord, we speak of healing, yet I struggle to see the manifestations of our improved health. At a time when our congregation can’t budget more than a few thousand dollars a year (out of $275k+) for charity…we can find ways to rehash old grudges? We can’t be bothered to have honest and open discussion about personal finances, poverty, sexuality, drugs, divorce, homelessness, race, gender issues and (insert any subject people struggle and suffer with in this life)…yet we can find time to discus the failures of a past pastor? We are likely in the midst of the largest denominational split since the civil war…and we have the naiveté (or gall?) to pat ourselves on the back for “healing” and reminisce about how we’ve come so far since…well…you know…?
Lord, I realize that most have let go of the past. Lord I realize that maybe I need to let go. I know that those who haven’t let go do not intend me harm, pain or insult. But Lord, remaining silent is proving no comfort to me. I fear that I am fooling myself into believing that silence is an act grace on my part. Or maybe I am fooling myself into believing the arrogant fiction that I am somehow “above” that sort of petty BS. Worse yet…I fear that my silence is the subtle wink-and-nod that says “say no more…I’m with your 100%.”
God, I beg of you…allow me patience. When others others speak of “those days” or “a certain preacher”….please…if it be Thy will….comfort me and open my eyes to their truth…or tell them to just shut the #&% up.
Amen